Was I Cold?
by Yokokitsu
Summary: Our favorite suit of armor turned human, or vice versa, thinks about, life, his brother, and most importantly the weather. Elricest if you squint.


Title- Was I Cold?  
Author-Yokokitsu  
Pairing- Looks at Top of Screen Umm, that.  
Rating- T  
Warnings- Your typical Elricest stuff...

Summary- 'I've always loved him, loved him more then family, more then a brother. I still feel that there is nothing that he needs to apologize for, and he should know that by now.'

There really is nothing I like better then reviews- they make my life a better place. Kind of written for FrankietheCat, cause her writing really inspired me to do this. You know, when I wasn't posting a comment to everything she posted…

Was I Cold?

Was I cold? It was winter; it was snowing. Metal cannot feel cold, but others can feel its coolness. I suppose I should be angry, but it just seems impossible. I may have been trapped in this unfeeling prison, but… Brother gave his arm for me! I just cannot hate him, and I really don't want to.

Brother is sleeping; I can see him on the opposite bed. He never changes, even after all these years he sleeps with his stomach out… I chuckle in spite of myself- it comes out sounding cold and hollow and cold. But, isn't that what I am?

I hate how this voice seems almost mechanical. I can't remember things that well though, maybe I've always laughed this way. I'll have to ask Brother sometime.

Speaking of Ed, I can see him shift slightly in his bed. It's depressing to watch him wake up, open his eyes to have face a new day. While he sleeps all the cares usually apparent in the premature lines on his face, slip away. As soon as he stirs, the cares and burdens carry come flooding back into his beautiful golden eyes.

"Brother?" I move to sit next to him, but the second I speak a thick white mist rolls in, obscuring him. I fumble forward, miraculously avoiding hitting something in my frantic search for Brother. In fact, there doesn't seem to be _anything _around me, beneath me— And suddenly I'm falling, surrounded by nothing but a suffocating white.  
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"—nse... Alphon… Alphonse! AL!" Slowly, light seeps into my dark prison.

"Ed—ward?" my voice hoarse and raspy, even to me. It's still a relief, though, to hear something completely human come from my mouth.

"Sheesh Al, don't scare me like that! You were thrashing and screaming, and I couldn't get you to stop!" He was slowly working himself back into a panic- his carefree smile being replaced by an expression of concern. "I couldn't even wake you up!"

As he hugs me closer, I realize that this is one of those rare moments when those overprotective walls come down. That one moment in which you can see his emotions clearly written in everything he does, every position he takes, every word he speaks… At these times, Brother looks so vulnerable. The great Fullmetal Alchemist… fragile?

"Are your memories still coming back? It's been a year since we restored your body, but I guess you still need to recover…"

I let him talk, despite his obvious need for answers; despite his need to know if I've forgiven him, if I still love him. I've always loved him, loved him more then family, more then a brother. I still feel that there is nothing that he needs to apologize for, and he should know that by now.

Instead of giving those answers that I know he so desperately needs, I watch the world outside- I scrutinize the picturesque scene of the fresh snow falling. It seems strange that anything could make a pure, clean dawn such as this any more inspiring. As impossible as this would seem, the lightly falling snow reflects and throws back the yellows and pinks of the new day.

There are a thousand suns waking us to the new day, numbering as many and identical as snowflakes are.

Sitting in Brother's lap, his arms wrapped around me. A curtain of soft gold falling in my face. I'm surrounded by beauty. Now, I think I can answer my last body left me with. I'm not cold, and as long as I have Brother -and new tomorrows to come- I never would be again.


End file.
